


Never Let Me Go

by superbrat (justiceleague)



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: But they both want it, Drugged Sex, M/M, bc drugs, but there are explicit references to Dick being sexually abused, but with a lot of feelings, it's just kinda fuck or die, kinda dub con?, this is way softer than it looks i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 18:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17667581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justiceleague/pseuds/superbrat
Summary: "I want you, Bruce." he says and Bruce chokes, because he doesn’t, not like how it sounds."It’s because you're drugged, Dick.""No," Dick breathes, confused wonderment written all over him, like he’s only just realized. "I don't think it is."+++Dick Grayson is kidnapped by sex traffickers, and when Bruce finds him, he's drugged to the gills and begging for Bruce to make it better. They both stumble on feelings they never knew existed.





	Never Let Me Go

Bruce swings through the window, boots first, and rolls through the spray of glass. He lands in a semi-crouch, cape raised for protection, and takes stock of his surroundings.  
  
The warehouse is fairly vacant; dim, but visibility high enough from the light leaking into it from the next door over that he can make out dark shapes without flicking on his night vision. He sees no guards, and no tell-tale sign of any holding space for the large amounts of other victims that they should be transporting.   
  
“Direction?” He commands more than asks into his comm.  
  
“He should be just to your left, B.” Tim responds. “There are no other detectable heat signatures inside, and Robin and I are holding up a couple of assholes out here. Judging by my headcount you should be in the clear, at least while we can keep their attention.”  
  
Bruce grunts to acknowledge and turns to his left, where the source of light is, coming from beneath a door.  
  
Dick should be just inside.  
  
He wants to feel a flood of relief, of finally being so close, but there’s a nagging trepidation squeezing his gut. He slams the door back, and realizes why.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Dick’s conscious, at least, and he turns his head up at the sound, flinching until he sees Bruce, sees _Batman_. A strangled sound makes its way up his throat, eyes widening as a deep flush stains him from his chest up.  
  
Bruce averts his gaze, but makes his way towards Dick, cautiously. He stands beside him and looks back only when his eyes align with Dick’s, pulling back his cowl so Dick can see his face. He removes the gag from Dick's mouth - an over-sized ball gag - and Dick coughs, groaning as he works his jaw.  
  
“Is _N_ okay? What’s your status?” Bruce hears through the comm, and his throat constricts for a silent moment before he can force the words to come out.  
  
“We have a - a code...yellow. I’m switching my comm to emergency mode. Red Robin, you’re in charge. Take care of the rest on your end, call in backup with Oracle if needed.”  
  
“ _Shit!”_ Bruce hears Tim swear, followed up by an outraged cry from Damian, before he switches it off.  
  
“Dick _,_ ” Bruce calls softly, reorienting him because Dick’s gaze has gone distant, zoning past him.  
  
Dick pulls himself back at Bruce’s voice, eyes connecting. “D-drugged,” he manages. “Bruce, my arms, please -”  
  
Bruce doesn’t hesitate to reach above Dick’s head and lift his arms off the hook, bound too tightly with some poor, splintering rope. He braces for screaming as the blood starts to flow back, but it doesn’t come. That doesn’t bode well for the amount of drugs in Dick’s system.  
  
Dick collapses onto him, bound arms falling around Bruce’s neck. Bruce has to catch him around the waist to keep him from crumpling into the floor, either too unused to standing or too weak to manage it.  
  
Bruce slowly lowers them into a kneel, burying his nose into Dick’s hair. His mind is an overwhelming whirl of emotions, boiling anger contesting with his panicked worry, manifesting as a tremble in his hands as he works the rope away from Dick’s blistered wrists.  
  
“Ah,” Dick hisses, pressed against Bruce’s body, and Bruce leans him backwards, suddenly aware of Dick’s predicament all over again.  
  
Dick whines as Bruce puts some space between them, pitiful, his face flashing an expression that clearly communicates that wishes he hadn’t. He reaches his hands up, flexing in an attempt to restrain himself, before gripping the edges of the cape, movements jerky and warring between shame and desperation.  
  
“Dick, it’s alright.” Bruce tries to assure him, to at least wipe some of his embarrassment away.  
  
“It’s not, it’s not, Bruce, I _need_ -” Dick pants, going a deeper red, canting his hips up.  
  
“You’re drugged, Dick. It’s alright. We’ll get you back to the cave where we can get you assessed, and -” Bruce cuts Dick off, but Dick doesn’t allow him to finish his own statement.  
  
“I can’t do that, I can’t wait, I’m burning up, it _hurts._ ” Dick pleads, and Bruce tries hard not to think about the erection Dick is leaning into his abdomen.  
  
“Bruce, I’m so sorry, I would never, I’m sorry, I just…” Dick is babbling, and Bruce’s first incentive is to calm him down, before anything else.  
  
“Regardless of anything else, this location is not secure. I need to get you to the batmobile.” Bruce compromises, and Dick, breathing hard, manages to nod.  
  
He removes his cape to wrap around Dick so he’s not so exposed, and he swings him up into a bridal carry, unsure if Dick’s legs or arms are capable of assisting him. He makes it back to the vehicle in probably record time even with the additional weight, and he flips the passenger seat flat so he can lay Dick down, enveloped in the black fabric.  
  
“Bruce, _help._ ” Dick moans, and he sounds a little more gone than he had a few minutes ago.  
  
Fuck.

“Bruce, it’s...hot...it’ll burn me up if I don’t…”  
  
And with a sharpening clarity, Bruce realizes. Dick is tossing his head, but otherwise limp; likely whatever they had given him had targeted his mobility, to keep him docile. Bruce swallows over the rising lump in his throat and closes his eyes, bracing himself.  
  
He climbs in the car himself after a moment, propping himself against Dick’s side. “I’m going to help you, Dick.”  
  
He waits for a protest, but Dick doesn’t offer one; he looks grateful, through a haze of artificial arousal. Bruce strips his gloves off.  
  
He licks his lips and once again averts his eyes, reaching towards Dick’s crotch, nudging the cape away.  
  
He’s detached, methodical. _This is a procedure_ , he tells himself, _for Dick_.  
  
He will do whatever it takes for Dick.  
  
He clenches his teeth and tries to drown out the sounds Dick is emitting; little wisps of pleas and moans, breathy and encouraging. They aren’t his to hear, not like this. This shouldn’t be happening, but he can afford Dick the courtesy of keeping his involvement as absent and professional as he can.  
  
It takes no more than two minutes for Dick to spill over his fist with an exhausted cry, body tightening up quickly and dropping, entirely lax, just as fast.  
  
Dick’s eyes seem a lot more aware when Bruce makes himself meet them again, but the fevered look hasn’t left his skin; though that might be entirely due to Dick’s humiliation, spilling from every pore as his mouth opens and closes, looking for _something_ he can say.  
  
“Don’t you dare apologize,” Bruce warns him off, reading the expression on his face. “It was necessary.”  
  
Dick looks like he wants to curl in on himself, but can’t quite manage it. “I-” he tries, pupils darting around, anywhere but at Bruce. “It’s not...over.”  
  
“What?” Bruce demands, but not harshly.  
  
“They gave me a dose every two hours, though it didn’t ever seem to fade before they did. It’s like a fever that gradually amps up, getting worse if I don’t…If I…and then, when I do, I get a few minutes before it starts again.” Dick sounds miserable. “Bruce, please, I know you told me not to, but I’m _so_ sorry. I would _never_ ask you this otherw-”  
  
Bruce cuts him off by lacing a hand through his hair. “You’re going to be fine. We’re going to get you through it, and we’re going to take you back home, get you checked over; then you’ll be in your own bed, and it will all be over. Let’s take it one step at a time.”  
  
Dick’s eyes take on a steely look of determination at the tone of calm support from Bruce, and he relaxes fractionally in the loose hold Bruce has on him. He nods like he’s _Robin_ and _Batman_ just gave him a mission. Then he shifts his body a little, and lets out a wince.  
  
“Are you hurt?” Bruce asks, cursing himself out for letting himself look away before checking more fully for injuries.  
  
Dick inhales sharply, and he tenses again, shying away from Bruce. “No, but, uh, there’s...I have a, a…They put a...” He shifts again, wriggling his hips, and _Oh._ Bruce realizes.  
  
“Do you need...do you want me to, ah, remove it?” Bruce manages to offer, and Dick’s face is flaming all over.  
  
Dick’s quiet a second, weighing it out. “Please.” he whispers, finally, reluctantly.  
  
Bruce braces one hand on his arm, squeezing, hoping it’ll help. He reaches the other down, trailing lightly so it’s not overly invasive, before he reaches the base of a plug. He gives a cursory tug, hoping it’ll give easily.  
  
Dick gasps, sharp, and bites into his lower lip. Bruce eases his pull, keeping it slow. When it finally slides out with slick sounding _pop!_ Dick lets out the breath he’d been holding. Then he whines.  
  
“Fuck, Bruce, I’m-” his eyes clench shut as his thighs begin trembling a little.  
  
Looks like their few minutes are up.  
  
Bruce reaches back towards Dick’s now straining erection, flushed a deep red. He wonders how many times he’s been subjected to this already today; how many hands, harsh and invasive, have been forcing themselves in place of where Bruce’s are now. He barely restrains a growl and tucks himself in tighter against Dick’s side, comforting, gentling his touch in the hopes that it will be _different_ , that Dick will feel how much it is with him _._  
  
“Bruce, god _,_ it’s _empty_ , I need _more,_ please, please…” Dick trails off, begging.  
  
Bruce feels off balance, because this is quickly spiraling from what he intended, what he needed it to be, too _intimate_ for this time or place and all _wrong._  
  
But Dick needs him.  
  
He returns his hands down to Dick’s entrance, but he doesn’t breach; he can’t quite get himself to. Dick doesn’t let Bruce’s hesitance keep him from what he wants, though; he shoves himself onto Bruce’s hand.  
  
He lets loose a high pitched keen, slowly rolling against Bruce. He’s still stretched wide and wet from the plug, and two of Bruce’s fingers easily slide in. Dick breaks into an open mouthed pant, sighing as he moves himself, weakly.  
  
Bruce can’t tear his eyes away, not this time; training them on the sight before him, of Dick, glistening in sweat and trying so desperately to fuck himself on Bruce’s hand, hair splaying out where it’s not stuck to his forehead. _Beautiful._ Bruce thinks, catching himself off guard.  
  
_Since when…?_ He scrabbles through his brain, because he’s never…he’s never looked at Dick like... _well_ , he pauses; he’s never really allowed himself to look at Dick _at all_ , before. Not like this.  
  
He shouldn’t have now.  
  
Bruce turns himself away entirely, heat consuming him, guiltily licking at his face.  
  
Dick whines. “Bruce, _no._ Don’t look away, please.” His hand raises, slightly limp, to land on his cheek, asking him to turn back; Bruce doesn’t even play at resisting him.  
  
Dick’s mouth drops open into a gasp when he meets his eyes, and Bruce, shamefaced but curious, thrusts his fingers.  
  
“Ah!” Dick shouts, morphing into another hiss. “Better…better. The way they...they...looked at me, it was…” Dick breaks off to groan before continuing, “It was dirty, felt disgusting, like a piece of meat. Not like you. I want you to look _._ ”  
  
Bruce’s jaw spasms with the force of his clenched teeth and the _roar_ he swallows back; pure, blind rage at the very idea of Dick being treated like that - that he would turn to _Bruce_ afterwards, just to feel the attentions of someone who _cares._  
  
Dick's eyes are blown, open wide and the pupils so dark and expanded they’re barely ringed in blue anymore.  
  
"I want _you_ , Bruce." he says and Bruce chokes, because he _doesn’t_ , not like how it sounds.  
  
"It’s because you're drugged, Dick."  
  
"No," Dick breathes, confused wonderment written all over him, like he’s only just realized. "I don't think it is."  
  
There’s a little lurch in the vague area of Bruce’s chest, and he surges forward, resting his head against Dick’s as he keeps sliding his fingers, in and out.  
  
Dick tries to smile at him, but it falls away into a twisted expression of pleasure, deep moan rattling his throat as he comes, suddenly.  
  
Bruce strokes Dick’s face through it, knuckles dragging lightly, brushing his hair back.  
  
“Bruce,” Dick sighs against him. “Kiss me.”  
  
Bruce hovers, part of him terrified that Dick is truly drugged out of his mind. This is a definite line, and one that will define how the rest of the night will be framed. If Bruce does this, he can't shove it all under the cover of helping Dick, because he will be sating something inside himself that sounds almost as desperate as Dick does. But there is coherency in his tone, he thinks, and his mouth is just _there_ _._  What is he really so afraid of?  
  
Bruce presses forward, testing. Dick shows none of his self control, and licks his way into Bruce’s mouth right away, eyelids falling shut. Bruce doesn’t stop him; he lets Dick take how he wants, and he pushes back against him, participating, tasting.  
  
When Dick finally draws back to catch his breath, Bruce drops his head to bury his nose in the dip of Dick’s collar bone, inhaling deeply.  
  
“How far away is the cave?” Dick mumbles, sounding winded.  
  
“I can make it in thirty.”  
  
“If you wear me out, we can manage it without having to stop.”  
  
Bruce can’t resist a huff of laughter into Dick’s skin. “Easier said than done, with your stamina.”  
  
“Not up to it, old man?” Dick raises an eyebrow, teasing, but Bruce sobers up at the reminder.  
  
“Dick, this is...we aren’t -”  
  
“Bruce,” Dick interrupts, eyes softening with open honesty, “Don’t do that to yourself. I’m glad it...happened, like this. That you found me. It couldn’t have been anyone else.”  
  
Bruce groans into Dick’s shoulder. “I shouldn’t have _had_ to find you. This shouldn’t be….this should be us, back in my bed, where I could show you - where you could _know_ how I -”  
  
“Show me now,” Dick asks. “Then make good on the rest of it when we get back.”  
  
Bruce’s breath catches. “It might not be a good idea,” he confesses. “If we make it there, I’m going to have a hard time letting you back out. You...scared me.”  
  
“Don’t make threats you can’t follow up on,” Dick responds, smile bright, and Bruce’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest at the sight of it.  
  
He feels like a damn fool. It should not have taken until this moment for him to see what Dick Grayson truly is.  
  
Somebody precious, invaluable, and all too pretty for his own good. Somebody who drove him to the edge of a volatile meltdown when he dropped off the map a week ago after going totally dark on a sex trafficking case.  
  
...Then again, maybe he’d always known, and he’d simply been blinding himself to it.  
  
Bruce decides to make up for it. He holds Dick close, and whispers in his ear, things that are unbearably, maddeningly, vulnerably true, as he opens Dick up, preparing him properly.  
  
He presses these truths into lines of Dick’s skin with open mouthed kisses, nosing his way back up to Dick’s face to trade messy, mutual ones with him before trailing back down all over again.  
  
By the time Dick is ready, Bruce has been showering him with a litany of praise so intense that Dick looks like he could cry under it, and Bruce has to wonder if the drugs are coming into play.  
  
He does cry when Bruce enters him, slow and sweet, a drawn out sound from his chest that comes with the trickle of a few tears.  
  
“I didn’t hurt you?” Bruce asks, and Dick sobs in an attempt to laugh.  
  
“It’s just...a lot. Don’t stop.”  
  
So Bruce doesn’t. He braces himself over Dick and glides himself in, a steady, gentle pace, focusing entirely on the reactions he can draw from Dick. Dick manages enough strength to grasp at his back, which leaves Bruce desperately wishing he had shed his suit.  
  
The drugs make it end far too soon for Dick, but Bruce has enough control that he waits the next few minutes before starting again, and then again, and again, leaving Dick a crying, writhing mess against him by the fourth time, overstimulated from Bruce words, hands, and attention.  
  
When Dick finally passes out, Bruce floors it back to the cave, managing to get the time down to twenty five minutes. Dick is still passed out when he carries him in, once again wrapped in the cape, and Bruce clears out the gathering of worried people flocking around them when they reach the medical bay with a bark and a no-arguments glare.  
  
A quick analysis confirms the adaptation of an Ivy toxin that Bruce had suspected, and he administers the antidote with steady hand and no small amount of well earned relief. Then, despite knowing he should leave Dick there to be monitored throughout the night, Bruce cringes at the thought of Dick waking up alone and on a cot, so he scoops him up again and heads upstairs.  
  
Walking through the hall, he passes Dick’s room and stops, suddenly unsure.  
  
Divorced now from the situation, it seems distant, almost like a dream. He isn’t sure if it would be presumptuous, if bringing it all to light after the fact is crossing an entirely different line -  
  
Dick stirs in his grasp.  
  
“...’ruce,” he mumbles, blinking awake, only to register where Bruce had brought them to a standstill. “You made me a promise.”   
  
Bruce stares at Dick a moment, then keeps walking, right to his bedroom.  
  
“I warned you,” he says, and Dick only smiles back at him as he steps through the threshold of his door, crossing that line.


End file.
